Who is?
by Fletset
Summary: Kyle reflects on the long way he and Stan went through from being just friends, to being... something else. Somewhat slash.


**Disclaimer: **South Park is not mine and I am not making any money out of these stories.

**Author's Note: **Here you go, Brat Child2. Just as I promised. Now GO WRITE CHAPTER 12!

I think I enjoy writing slash too much XD

Be prepared for a very confusing reading…

Sorry for spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my native language.

* * *

**Who is…?**

Who is a best friend?

A best friend is someone, who will accept you no matter who or what you are. A best friend is someone you can trust. A best friend is someone you can go to with your problems and know that they will help you get over whatever is bothering you. A best friend is someone, who will always stay by your side. A best friend is someone, who will always stick by you. A best friend is someone you can feel comfortable and safe with. A best friend is someone, who instead of getting jealous, would be happy for you. A best friend is someone, who doesn't see themselves as your best friend, because if they _did _see themselves as one, then they would expect too much of you.

What made _us _best friends?

Everyone around us treated us as such, so it was only natural for us to think the same. However, we did not really act as ones. Whatever Stan did for me, he could have done for Kenny or Cartman. Whatever I did for him, I could have done for Kenny… and maybe not for Cartman, because he's a stupid ass.

Sometimes, when he asked me to do certain things for him, I only obliged after much persuasion. Same thing goes for when I asked him to do things for me.

We were four in our bunch, and while Cartman was the stupid ass, who didn't give a shit about people (unless it helped him in some kind of a twisted way), and while Kenny was the poor kid whose mind was occupied with thoughts about sex, the voice of reason was mine and Stan's. We took turns on being the mature ones. And so people assumed that we are best friends, because we were almost alike. We were… the more normal.

There had been many times when I came to him, emotionally broken, and he couldn't really help me. Of course, when he came to me with things about Wendy, all I could say was "who cares?" or "dump the stupid bitch already", and when she dumped him… I gave up on him to quickly, just as when the gay phase took over South Park he gave up on me.

There were times, in which a true friendship shone through, but I never felt that there was something truly special between us.

I only began to see Stan as my best friend around ninth grade. We all went ice-skating on Stark's Pond, and the ice there was beginning to thaw. We noticed the thin ice and its shade of blue, and decided to give up on ice-skating and simply sit around the lake and hang out just as we loved doing. We ran around, fooling like we were nine again, when I slipped near the edge of the lake and fell on the ice, causing it to break under the weight of my body. I fell into the freezing water below with a sharp pain.

I heard him scream my name before the water swallowed me, and soon after I felt someone pulling me up by my shirt. I took a sharp intake of breath as soon as my head was above the water, and I heard Stan's grunts of struggle. He held my left arm and I screamed, which caused him to let go and I fell again.

My body grew tired as I tried to keep myself from sinking, and struggling with one arm alone proved to be futile. Two arms grabbed my better arm and tried to pull me up. My eyes, half closed, noticed Stan trying to keep himself from falling, too, as the mud made the surface of the ground slippery. "Get help!" he screamed, and Kenny began running in the direction of the town. Cartman made a step forward, still somewhat dumbfounded, and held Stan's hips so he won't slip as well. "Come on, Kyle," Stan yelled through gritted teeth. "Help me here!" and I tried, I swear that I did. I moved my legs so I could stay above the water, but my movements were slow as I slowly let myself slip into unconsciousness. "Come on, Kyle!" Stan screamed and held me beneath my arms. It hurt and I struggled to get free from his hold, but he didn't let go and eventually managed to pull me out of the water.

"Help me!" he screamed at Cartman and not so gently undressed me. I was unfocused, I could barely remember where I was and I screamed at the pain in my arm. "We have to get his clothes off!" The only thing I remember after that is that when he finally got me naked he simply held me as I allowed my eyes to finally shut.

He wasn't next to me when I woke up under the warm covers of the hospital bed. My mom was there, cooing and holding my uninjured arm as my dad watched us sadly. My lips moved, whispering his name and calling for him, until I finally looked out of the window and into the waiting room, where he sat on a green, plastic chair with his head buried between his arms. My dad called him in, and he hurried inside to see me. I freed my arm from my mom's grip and tried to reach for him, thanking him with my hoarse voice. He held my hand gently and unshed tears caused his eyes to shine. "I'm glad you're okay," he whispered with a quivering voice. "You really scared me back there," he said, and I could do nothing but cry.

I owed him my life. If he weren't there, there is a high chance I wouldn't have been here. Ever since then, I think I started to see him as my best friend, a true one at that. Only a best friend would risk his life in order to save yours.

I think that that day caused the change in our relationship. He became protective over me, and I became depended on him. Whenever Cartman used one of his old Jew-jokes on me, Stan shut him up immediately. Cartman argued, saying that he helped saving my life so I owe him just as much as I owe Stan. But then Kenny intervened, saying that he's the one, who called for help and he _still _doesn't think that I owe him. Cartman said that it's because he's a "poor piece of shit", but he still shut up afterwards. I believe that Kenny's right. Stan is the one, who pulled me out of the water. If it weren't for him, Kenny and Cartman would have probably stared at me drown before coming to the conclusion that something was wrong. Stan saved my life, and he is the one, whose name I call after waking up from a nightmare in which I'm drowning in a sea of ice.

* * *

Who is a lover?

A lover is someone, who loves you. A lover is someone, who pleasures you. A lover is someone you could never get sick of looking at. A lover is someone, who makes you feel like you're at the top of the world. A lover is your best friend, only that they aren't afraid to touch you.

When did we become lovers?

I went to Stan's house almost every weekend, and I stayed there until Sunday morning, when he had to go to church with his family. I never slept on the floor, but always with him in his bed. He looked after me as if he were my mom. He hugged me and caressed my hair and told me he never wants to lose me and kissed my forehead. And I hugged him back and buried my head in his chest or his neck and I felt safer than ever there. I could never… snuggle like this with my mom or dad. I never saw it as a sign that we love each other, though. Kenny said that we do. We used to stay hugged like that the entire night, and when I woke up, screaming his name, he tightened his hold on me and told me that he's here for me. In reality, he only did it once, but in my dreams Stan pulled me out of the darkness countless of times.

Kenny said it's odd. He said that I never stuck to Stan the way I did after I nearly drowned. Stan told him to leave me alone because I'm just scared. "He's been like that for a year, Stan," Kenny said. "He should really learn to let go. He's alive, he's alright, there's no reason he should cling to you like that." But Stan never listened, and told me that he doesn't care at all. "You can cling to me as much as you'd like," he told me, and I obliged.

We went ice-skating for the first time since that incident. I stood a few feet away from the pond, not moving and holding Stan's hand as if it were the only thing, which kept me from falling from the precipice of a very high cliff. "You can do it," he assured me. "The ice is thick, you won't fall."

I advanced slowly, still holding his hand in a death grip, and when my leg came in contact with the slippery surface I felt someone pushing me from behind and I fell with a scream. "Cartman! You stupid fat fuck, what was that for!" I heard Stan curse as I struggled to stay above the ice, breathing heavily.

"You two are such fags! The best way to do it is to throw him in!" Cartman yelled back as I saw the ice cracking under me. My lips moved, calling Stan's name in a hushed and panicked whisper.

"No, fatass! Don't you see that he's scared? How does throwing him in would help!" Stan shouted and I felt freezing water surrounding my fingers, yet my voice couldn't become louder than a whisper.

"This is how you teach dogs to swim!" Cartman yelled back.

"Kyle isn't some stupid dog!"

"He's a Jew! It's almost the same!" I felt someone grabbing me from behind and pulling me out of the hell I was in. It was Kenny, and he looked down at me with a soft smile as he helped me back to the safe surface of the ground. Stan noticed me and hurried over, taking me in is arms and glaring at Cartman. "Come on, let's get out of here," he said as he helped me up. "Next time we'll do it without fatass around!" he finished with a yell, and we left.

* * *

Who is a mother?

It depends on who you ask. Some would say a mother is a "stupid bitch" while others would say that a mother is their best friend. A mother is someone, who will accept you no matter who or what you are. A mother is someone, who can make all of your fears disappear. A mother is someone, who will think you are the prettiest even if you received first place in an "ugliness queen" contest. A mother is someone, who will get mad at you for something but would not hesitate to help you afterwards. A mother is the first person to ever love you.

When did I start to see Stan as a mother to me?

Yes, I know it sounds odd and twisted, but after the incident in ninth grade, Stan acted as a mother to me more than my own mom. My mom always got mad at me. I never liked hugging her. She always caused me to feel embarrassed around my friends and town, sometimes I would feel shamed that she's my mother.

Stan, unlike my mother, allowed me to hug him and he hugged me back. I could snuggle in his bed like a little child, something I could never do back home. I could always feel safe around Stan, whereas around my mother I always felt as if I had to act and talk in a certain way.

Sense would say I should have seen Stan as a father, bur a father is not a thing I've been missing. Of course, Stan could never be a mother, but he sure as hell acted like one to me.

"I'm sick of you going to the Marshes all the time!" my mother yelled at me once when I was about to leave for Stan's house. "Friday night is the time for our family to bond! You are not going to Stan's place on Friday nights anymore, and you are _not _staying there for the entire weekend!"

Why won't she allow me to see my best friend? The one that people saw my lover and the one that I saw my mother? I argued, I told her that we never bond on Friday nights. She said that I'm never around on those nights, so there is no way I can know. Angry, I stomped upstairs and locked myself in my room, ignoring her yells for me to come down and bond. I wanted to feel Stan's arms around me, I wanted him to tell me it was all going to be okay and kiss my forehead. I wanted him to act like the mother I missed.

That night, when I woke up, calling his name after drowning in an endless sea of ice, he wasn't next to me to calm me down. My arm hurt, and I was freezing. I screamed and ran outside, not caring who might wake up. I ran straight to his home, choking on my own tears, and a smile crept to my lips when I noticed him waiting for me on the stairs next to his door. I came to a stop next to him and allowed him to hug me against his chest. I fell asleep, whispering his name.

Someone shook me awake, and I opened my eyes, blinking at the sudden light. Stan was there, looking down at me worriedly with his parents behind him, whispering among themselves.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, and I frowned. Didn't he know? He was here with me last night! "It's a good thing my dad found you when he went to work early today, you would have frozen to death!"

I don't remember being cold. They took me inside, apparently, because when I woke up I was in Stan's bed. "What were you doing in my house?" he asked.

I told him about my mother, how she won't let me to come to him anymore. He looked at me softly, caressing my skin gently as I spoke. I held his hand against my cheek, craving for its warmth. After his parentsleft, he stripped down to his boxers and lay next to me, taking me in his arms and allowing me to bath in his warmth. "You are the person most important to me in the world," he said, kissing my forehead lightly. "I would never let you go."

I fell asleep, smiling.

* * *

Who is a crazy person?

A crazy person is someone, who is different from the rest. A crazy person is someone, who thinks things that the society condemns. A crazy person is someone, who thinks differently. A crazy person in someone, who even though does nothing to hurt his surroundings, will be put in an institution.

When did I become crazy?

I always snuck out of the house on Friday nights so I could go to Stan's. My mom knew, but there was nothing she cold do about it. I outsmarted her. Stan sometimes would wait for me on his doorstep, and then we would walk around the town and end up in Stark's Pond, where I allowed him to do to me things that I only dreamed of. But every morning, I woke up alone and dirty from mud.

Kenny saw me one morning. He was on his way to his part-time job and took a shortcut through the pond. He saw me there, sitting under a tree with my face wet from my tears. "What are you doing here so early?" he asked. I cried and told him that Stan left me here by myself again. I didn't look up to see his face. He stood there for a few minutes, saying nothing, and then left in the direction from which he came.

He came back with Stan, who immediately fell to his knees next to me and hugged me.

"Why are you here alone?" he asked me.

I told him that he left me, like he always did lately. I told him that I'm sick of it, that I want him to be next to me when I wake up. "He was never here, Kyle," Kenny said, looking at me oddly. "You were always here alone." Stan looked up at him, then at me, disbelieving. "I told you to let him go, but you never listened," Kenny continued, talking to Stan this time.

"I'm so sorry, Kyle," Stan said and kissed the top of my head. "It's all my fault that you're like this. Maybe we do need… some time apart." I yelled and hugged him tighter, refusing to let him go. "Just so you could get better!" he said.

I told him that there's nothing wrong, that I'm better than I've ever been. He just looked at me with confusion in his eyes, then at Kenny again. "I-I just can't leave him, dude," he said. "He's my…"

"He's your what?" Kenny asked loudly.

Stan bit his bottom lip, and I think his hug was never as tight. "I just can't leave him, okay!"

"Look at what you do to him!" Kenny said, pointed at the very distressed me. "He's going crazy!"

"I think that you're simply jealous, because you've got no one!" Stan yelled back.

I saw something flash in Kenny's eyes, and he took his arm back, as if to hit Stan. He began to shake, and put his arm down. "You're as fucking crazy as he is. Fine, do whatever you like! See if I care!" then he turned around and left us alone.

Stan ran his hand through my messy hair, smiling at me. "You're not crazy," He said and kissed me on my lips.

* * *

What it imagination?

Imagination is the thing, which makes you creative. Imagination is the thing, which makes you go paranoid. Imagination is the thing, which makes you human. Imagination is the thing, which when goes out of control, makes you lose you sanity.

When did I lose mine?

My mom locked me up in my room and sealed the window. She knew that something was terribly wrong with me, and she wouldn't let me out. She refused to take me to a psychiatrist, because it would bring shame upon the family. Besides, just getting me far away from Stan would fix everything. Every time she came into the room and saw the mess, she would tell me to tidy it up, or I won't get any dinner.

I was a prisoner in my own home. I wanted my best friend back, I wanted me lover back, I wanted my mother back. But Stan never came.

Everything reminded me of him. From my blanket to my door, from the picture on my desk to the CD he lent me once.

I wanted to see him. I wanted it so much, wished for it so much that eventually he did come. He woke me up, and I opened my eyes to look at his smiling face. His hand touched my cheek, and I smiled. "I missed you," he said. "I won't let your mom lock you up.

I told him that she wasn't really my mom. He is the only mother I want. He laughed and helped me get up. I asked him how he got in, and he said that he entered through the door. I told him that it's locked, and he shook his head. "I opened it," he said. "With a pin."

I walked with him as he smiled lightly, his shoes and clothes dirty with blood. So were mine. I asked him if we were bleeding, and he said that we are the ones, which made the blood flow, but the blood is not ours. I wanted to ask whose it was, when I saw the three bodies downstairs. With no emotion in my voice I asked him why he killed my family, and his smile went wider as he inched his face closer to mine. "Because they took you away."

* * *

Who are you?

You are what you are. You are what you think and do. You are what you create. You are what people see you as. You are what you want to change. You are not perfect, and you are not special, because if everyone is special then we are all the same. You are an individual. You are your mother and your father. You are a part of God.

Who am I?

Stan and I arrived at Stark's Pond, and when I turned to ask him something, I found out I was alone again. The ice still covered the water, and I gulped. Stan stood in the middle of the pond, spreading his arms. "Come!" he said. "Come, and we'll run away!"

I didn't want to go, I didn't want to drown in a sea of ice again.

He was there, smiling and calling for me, and it took me a long time to decide to go. My steps were slow as I made my way to the pond, and it seemed to me like Stan was standing farther with each step that I took. Eventually, my foot connected with the ice. I shut my eyes tight, and moved the other leg onto the slippery surface. I heard his voice, louder and louder as I got closer. My eyes were still shut, and my lip bled because I bit it too hard. Suddenly, I couldn't hear Stan's voice anymore, and I opened my eyes, panicked. I was standing in the middle of the lake in the middle of the night, and Stan disappeared again. I looked around until I noticed him standing on the ground, looking at me sadly, almost scared.

"Kyle…" he said, "Kyle, they found your family, dude…" I stared at him, dumbfounded. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" I yelled, almost losing my balance. "You did it!"

His bottom lip fell in shock, and he shook his head. "Don't put this on me, Kyle! _You _did it… _you_ killed your family."

"You were there!" I screamed, "you told me that you did it because they took me away!"

Stan took a step back even though he was standing far enough from me. "You've gone mad," he said, causing me to lose my balance and fall on the thin ice and break it. I called for help, but Stan did not come to save me this time. The freezing water slowed my movements until I couldn't struggle anymore, and the endless blackness began consuming my whole.

"I would never let you go, for you are my only one," I heard Stan's whisper and smiled, spreading my arms and allowing the real Stan take me into his embracing arms.

* * *

Who is a dead person?

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End._

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**Author's Note: **Once again, meant to be one thing, ended up as another.

Please review!


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